The Inquiries and Combats of Question and Huntress
by The Delphian
Summary: Both desperate to spend more time with one another and yet unable to abate their thirst for justice, Question and Huntress have combined their skills to create the most successful private investigation unit in Gotham City. These two work to crack each case with nothing more than strength, wit, and just a tad bit of paranoia.


**Chapter One: The not-so Earnest Business**

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**A/N: R&R – Criticism encouraged.**

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Daylight engulfed the tall, shimmering duplex that was called Wayne Tower. The sun, with its ever so curious nature, found a way to slip itself through the thin cracks of the dark mahogany shutters that were attached to the windows of the fourth apartment on the twenty-sixth floor. Vic Sage's furious typing fingers made a sudden halt as the rest of him took notice of the change of day. He squinted into the thin streaks of light and sighed. He then returned to his laptop, which lay on his lap while he on his bed, and typed up some concluding sentences for the case report. Just as he closed his computer, Helena began to stir next to him.

Vic could neither fight the smile that grew on his lips, nor did he want to. He watched with a warm heart as his thin, yet curvaceous lover stretched and squirmed within the sheets just as she did every morning before waking. Once awake, she rolled over to face him.

"Did you stay up all night, baby?" She asked while yawning, her nose scrunching up in that cute way he loved.

"Why do you ask questions of which you already know the answer to? " Vic replied, putting his laptop aside before leaning down to give her a good morning kiss on the forehead. Helena looked up at him with a playful glare in her eyes.

"You're one to talk." She teased. Vic smirked.

"Yes, but when I ask such questions it's in assistance for the listener to arrive at a conclusion. In this particular situation I would clearly know whether or not I slept last night, therefore your question is irrelevant." He retorted, a challenging look in his eye. Both held a stare of a playful and competitive nature, neither willing to give into the other; at least, that is, until Helena smacked Vic over the head with a pillow. Vic laughed.

"Cute." He said, "Your immaturity charms me greatly."

"Funny, Bruce said just the opposite to me the other day." She responded with a smirk as she flopped back into a relaxed position.

"Speaking of the bat," Vic began, "We finally have enough money to start paying him the rent we owe."

Huntress rolled her eyes, "You mean the rent we _chose_ to owe him. No, _you_ chose to owe him. He said we could live here for free, remember?"

Vic nodded, "Of course I remember, but, as I've already told you, I don't like being in debt to people. Particularly, individuals like Bruce Wayne."

Helena sighed, "Whatever floats your boat, baby-doll; I'll call Alfred and let him know we'll be stopping by today."

"Perfect!" Vic replied with a satisfied grin on his lips, "I'll get the money ready."

Helena sat up in the bed, watching with a confused look as her lover got up and moved across the room.

"Get the money ready? What do you mea…?" Helena stopped mid-question and watched as her lover slid his fingers underneath the office table. Suddenly, there was a click, and a square section of the wall ejected forward and moved to the side, revealing a quarter of a lifetime's worth of cash.

"Aw, Q!" She exclaimed, "Haven't you ever heard of banks before?"

"Of course I have." He muttered before grabbing a handful of cash and proceeding to count it, "I simply don't trust them."

"Why don't you…?" Helena began to ask the question, but realizing it would simply expound into another one of his lengthy conspiracy rants she decided against it. "Never mind."

Just then, the telephone rang.

"Could you get that, dear?" Vic asked, "I believe it's our work line."

Without a sound, Helena hopped down from the bed and made her way swiftly to the telephone.

"HQ Investigations; this is Huntress speaking." She answered. A very deep, professional voice then bellowed through the phone. Helena put the phone down and on speaker to avoid the headache that was sure to come with it.

"Why hello, Miss! This is Francis McClellan, official campaign manager for Senator Andrew Feltine, let me just start by saying that we are both very big fans of yours." The man said.

Helena sat down in the office chair, a skeptical look growing on her face due to the man's clear lack of sincerity.

"That's very nice of you to say, Mr. McClellan. What can Question and I do for you?" Helena replied. Vic smirked as he continued counting the bills, noticing that Helena's tone was a definite mocking of the man's.

"Well, you see, Huntress, Senator Feltine and I have rather strong reason to believe that Mrs. Feltine is, well, stepping out on him." He explained.

"I'm very sorry to hear that." Huntress replied.

The man continued, "I am as well, Miss. However, you have to understand that, with election season right around the corner, our Senator must be very careful about anything he says or does; which is why I suggested a quiet way to confirm his suspicions before following through with any confrontations."

"We understand completely." Huntress said, "We'd be more than willing to help. Are you willing to meet for some coffee around noon to discuss details?"

"That sounds wonderful, Miss, thank you. Is the bistro down on Ninth Street to your liking?" He asked.

"That works perfectly; we'll see you then." Helena assured before hanging up.

"Infidelity and politics." Vic commented, now placing the money neatly in a brief case, "That's always a fun mix."

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Huntress took another sip of her coffee, bearing little interest in the details of this particular case. Despite the client's significant position in political office, this seemed to be no more than a typical infidelity case, which was a case of which the two worked many. These never excited her, for there was usually no danger involved in them and therefore no need for physical confrontation; which, unfortunately, is really the only time she ever actually has a substantial part in the investigation.

Despite Question's lack of a face, she continued to stare at him as he engaged in conversation with Mr. McClellan. She found Question's non-existent features to be much more interesting that the overwhelmingly plain looks of the campaign manager. The two continued to prattle on, Mr. McClellan answering questions left and right while Question took notes on his tiny notepad.

"So," Question began whilst reviewing his notes, "She's been arriving home late at night from parties the Senator believes to not exist, she's been frequently leaving for extended time periods to 'visit her mother,' and just last week he discovered a man's watch in her purse that he is certain doesn't belong to him?"

"That's all correct." Mr. McClellan confirmed.

"Interesting." Question responded with little enthusiasm, "Huntress and I will look into this shortly and we should have a case report to present to you no later than this Thursday."

"Thank you very much Mr. Question!" The man said while standing up from his seat. Question and Huntress followed suit. He reached out and shook question's hand, and then turned to Huntress.

"Miss Huntress." He acknowledged. She smiled and shook his hand.

Huntress crossed her arms and watched as the man walked to the valet in order to retrieve his car.

"I have a feeling this is going to be an easy one," She said, looking over to Question. "And a boring one."

Question adjusted his fedora, "We'll just have to wait and see."

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"That is one fancy purse." Huntress noted before peering around the corner to be sure Mrs. Feltine was still in the shower.

"Indeed, but I'm not surprised; the wealthy are usually the ones who go into politics," Question responded in a hushed tone as he continued fishing through Mrs. Feltine's purse. "And the wealthy women are indeed usually the ones to cheat on their husbands."

At last, Question pulled out what he was looking for: the watch. He turned it over a couple times within his gloved hands, inspecting the delicate craftsmanship of it.

"Hm, it is indeed a man's watch; she certainly did not buy this for herself. And seeing how it isn't wrapped or in a store bag, I doubt she bought it for her husband." He concluded.

"Wow, that's great, Q, but we've got to hurry; she just turned the water off." Huntress announced, watching the woman intently.

"Hand me the camera, then." He replied. Huntress pulled out the digital camera from her utility belt and tossed it over to Question. Question quickly took pictures of the watch at various angles and then shoved it back into the woman's purse.

"Alright," Question said, "We're finished here."

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"This just doesn't make any sense." Question muttered as he continued to scroll through the hacked email account. Helena rolled over in bed, squinting as result of the brightness of Vic's laptop.

"Vic, baby, what are you doing?" Helena asked in a groggy, sleep-deprived voice. "It's three in the morning…"

"It doesn't make any sense, Helena! None of it does!" He exclaimed.

Helena ignored him, her mind still being partially unconscious. Reluctantly, she sat up in bed next to her faceless lover.

"Why are you still wearing your mask?" She asked while stretching out her arms above her head.

"There was no time to take it off." He explained, resting his chin in his hand. "I also think better with it on."

Helena smirked. She brought her arms down from above her head and placed them around her lover's neck. She rested her chin upon his shoulder so her lips were close to where his ear should have been.

"Do you know what else you do better with it on?" She whispered seductively. This caught Vic off guard. He became rigid for a moment, and then turned to look over Helena whose body was scantily clad in a purple, tight-fitting, lace nightgown. Feeling his body react to the sight, he quickly directed his eyes back to the computer screen.

"Tempting, but I couldn't possibly make love to you at a time like this." He told her.

Helena scowled at the computer screen, "How odd, because I seem to remember you having more than enough time to make love to me before working on a case that the survival of the world depended on, but when it comes down to a Senator's wife cheating on him with his rival, _no_, no play time for Helena."

"First off, you _forced _me to spend time with you before working on that case; you held the data hostage!" Question defended, "And second of all, Helena, something's just not right about this case!"

"What's not right about it, Vic?" Helena asked, "Everything we found pointed directly at Mr. Leadon, even the watch. Not to mention the emails are right in front of you!"

"It just doesn't make sense." He muttered once again.

Helena sighed, "You said yourself that rich women tend to cheat on their husbands."

"I never said that I didn't think she's cheating," Question reminded, "I simply don't believe it's with Mr. Leadon. It just doesn't make sense. Rich people don't cheat on each other with other rich people, that isn't how it works. Mrs. Feltine comes from a low class background. She married into money when she married the Senator, and if she was going to cheat on him it would be with someone she relates to. Moreover, it would be with someone she has actually been around enough to get to know them! Mr. Leadon and Mr. Feltine despise each other; they're running against each other! The two never spend quality time together, so how in the world could Mr. Leadon and Mrs. Feltine become so close to each other that the two would end up sleeping with one another?"

At this point, Question was pretty much talking to himself.

Helena sighed, "I don't know, baby." She said while turning over and getting back into a restful position. Once comfortable, she closed her eyes. A few minutes passed and she could feel herself beginning to drift back into sleep.

"Hey, Helena?" Vic called suddenly, causing her eyes to pop open. "Do you really think I perform better with my mask on?"

Helena smirked, her eyes closing once again.

"You ask too many questions." She mumbled. She then tightened the covers around her and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"You two finished early!" Mr. McClellan exclaimed excitedly as he approached the table where Question and Huntress sat.

"Indeed, we did." Question replied, ignoring the hand that Mr. McClellan had offered him to shake.

"It was an interesting case, Mr. McClellan," Question began, "Much different than what we originally thought it to be."

Mr. McClellan slowly and nervously sat down across from the two.

"Is that so?" He asked.

"Indeed." Question answered. "It was as though all the evidence was laid out perfectly for us… But that's exactly what you did, isn't it, Mr. McClellan?"

The campaign manager laughed in attempt to remain calm, "Question, I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Oh, I most certainly think that you do." Huntress replied, an accusatory look in her stare.

"You're not in trouble, Mr. McClellan. At least, not yet. You asked us to do a job and we did it; we are required to do no more than that. However, we know the findings in this case report are far from what you hoped them to be. You see, this case was a bit difficult for me because the first answer we came to was just so glaringly obvious, that I knew it couldn't be the right one. So then I had to rack my brain to try and figure out who could it be that Mrs. Feltine was truly having the affair with, and you came to my mind over and over again, seeing as you are the only non-related tie to Mrs. Feltine who comes from a low-class background, but it didn't make any sense. If you were sleeping with your boss's wife, why would you be the one to suggest hiring a private investigator?" Question stared down the man, watching him become more and more nervous as he continued to explain his thought process to him.

"Then, it hit me: you were asking a question you already knew the answer to because you wanted a professional to arrive at the conclusion. Only, you wanted us to arrive at the _wrong_ conclusion. You thought, not only would you be able to keep your job, but you could ensure your candidate's re-election by destroying the reputation of his rival. It was a clever plan, Mr. McClellan; unfortunately you weren't clever enough of a man to pull it off."

Mr. McClellan was bone white. He swallowed hard.

"Look," He said, "I have your payment here in full. In cash too, just like you asked. No one needs to hear about this."

"I'm not sure we'd agree with that," Huntress said, "but fortunately for you, that's not our job."

Mr. McClellan nodded solemnly, "Thank you."

He then placed the envelope of money on the table, got up from his seat, and made his way to the valet.

"He didn't even take the case report…" Question said, looking down at the folder that rested within his gloved hands.

Huntress smirked, "What a shame."

"I gave up sex to write this…" He muttered bitterly.

Huntress' smirk grew into a full-out triumphant grin, "Well, looks like you weren't too clever of a man either."

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**A/N: Review Please (:**


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